


Cygnet

by aBeautifulWorld



Category: Ib (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Mostly friendship, green shipping, is there if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 17:31:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7447915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aBeautifulWorld/pseuds/aBeautifulWorld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was an ugly little duckling that always dreamed of transforming into a beautiful swan. He was her faithful companion. This was their unlikely fairy tale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a birthday present I promised Mirror of Words a year ago (I am awful, I am so sorry). It took such a ridiculously long time because I wasn't sure how to approach the MaryGarry-centred dynamic. I had so many ideas that ranged from cotton candy fluffy to tear-your-heart-out angst and so little time it was impossible to finish this until now.
> 
> I decided to dabble in a little of everything and instead of making it a one-shot, let it breath as a two-part story. I hope this makes up for the super long wait and the two birthdays I missed, friend :3 Happy reading!

She took slow, delicate steps in the darkness, her bare feet brushing softly against the marble floor. A strange feeling bloomed as she continued down the corridor, one hand pressed against the wall for support, the other tightening its grip around the sharpened palette knife. Her temples started hurting. The restlessness in her chest wouldn't settle.

A light in the far distance glowed faintly. The beautiful girl gasped and quickened her pace, her heart racing, her pulsing headache growing fierce. She stopped still at the sight that greeted her at the end of the corridor, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"Ib!" The younger version of herself grasped the tiny hands of her companion, cerulean eyes and smile bright with excitement. "We're finally getting out!"

 _"_ _No."_ The older girl whispered, recognising the scene quickly. _"S-stop."_

Young Mary swivelled on her feet to examine the large mural glowing bright, its colours vivid and almost blinding in intensity. She admired her father's work, the sheer beauty of it almost made her tear. Utterly enchanted, she paid no heed to Ib's quiet contemplation.

 _"_ _Please..."_ The palette knife dropped to the floor. Older Mary fell to her hands and knees, shaking her head fervently. Frozen on the spot, her body refused to obey her. She could only watch helplessly as Ib stepped forward and placed both her hands on her friend's shoulders.

She tensed at the soft incoming words, having them haunt her the past several years.

_"_ _Don't."_

"You'll have a great time, Mary." Resting her head in the crook between the girl's shoulder blades, she trembled slightly. "You'll meet so many great people and you won't be so lonely anymore."

The other child stared, not entirely understanding. "Ib?"

The adult besides them let out a single sob, clamping her mouth shut with both her hands.

"Please live well." Bright red eyes looked up, a sad but serene smile gracing her lips. "Goodbye, Mary."

Her eyes widened as Ib pushed her across the frame, her tiny body betraying her strength. Blinding white light spilled into the darkness, surrounding the single child, and then she was gone.

-x-

She awoke with a gasp, tears blurring her vision. Mary rolled over, shivering, burrowing further into her covers. She lay still for the longest time but sleep wouldn't take her. The girl sighed and rubbed her eyes, feeling far more exhausted than normal. She had only managed to fall asleep at 1 AM, insomnia quickly befriending her these days. Glancing towards her desk, she huffed at the time illuminated in red.

Her nightstand clock read 4.05 AM.

And so it starts. She hated those dreams. Even though she had nightmares throughout the year, the single most important event would continuously replay and plague her summers, especially the few days before _her_ anniversary. And what Mary hated most was the fact that she would probably get very little sleep now that they've woken her up. She wanted nothing more than to sleep for a hundred years.

There was no way she was getting up at this ridiculous hour. The teenager gave another long sigh and simply lay on her back, staring at the ceiling in resignation. It was going to be a long week.

-x-

The sweltering heat of August was almost too much to bear out on the streets, and there was no better way to spend the day and cheer herself up than being cooped up in her favourite bookstore. She much prefer the cold to the heat. It was comforting and familiar.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Mary squealed in delight as she read through her favourite passages of her favourite book again, reliving the magic of the words. There was something about fairy tales that made her so fond of them. She paid no attention to the footsteps approaching her, gave no mind to the long legs in front of her.

The gentlemen sighed and crossed his arms. Or as best as he could with one full of books.

"The whole purpose of this place is to give old books a new loving home. And here _you_ are, casually re-reading and re-reading and re-reading and refusing to let them go. You're scaring away customers. At least _buy_ them back from your mother."

She leafed the next page. "I'm broke."

She finally glanced up from her book to grin at his mildly irritated expression, his lavender hair and pink red face painting a pretty (and) amusing picture for her. He gave another long sigh and his one free hand on his hip like an old lady.

She suddenly imagined him in a fluffy night dress and cap, biting her lips to stop the sudden laughter from bubbling out.

"Then stop spending excessively on sweets. And ice-cream. And cake."

"But it's _hot,"_ she whined, _"_ You spend the entire day in this air-con, you wouldn't know what it's like out there."

He crouched down beside her to place back the books on the shelf she was leaning on, the real reason he came over. "I wasn't complaining about you staying here, just… at help me out every once in a while. Earn some pocket money. We're severely understaffed as it is."

She glanced at him and almost did a double-take when she say how worn out he was. Was he not sleeping well? It wasn't in her to ask after him, so she did as she usually did: mercilessly tease him.

"Well it's kind of funny seeing you run around like the white rabbit muttering about how you'll soon be late for everything."

"Learn the ropes, Mary." He pretended not to hear her, not taking her bait, although he self-consciously brushed his waistcoat with his thumb. "Your mother will probably pass this shop down to you when she's too old to run around and hoard books like her glory days."

"I'll tell Mother you said that."

He straightened immediately. "You wouldn't dare, kid."

Mary rolled her eyes. "I'm _sixteen_ , Garry, you should drop the kid by now."

"And you should drop that sassy attitude of yours."

"You love my sassy attitude."

He made a disgusted face and jokingly gagged, "I'm _really_ not into jailbait, thank you very much."

She crossed her arms and frowned. Garry looked back at her and chuckled, patting her head gently before moving off towards the stairs to continue his work. Her frown melted away and she followed him like a lost puppy, arms hugging her current reading material to her chest.

"I hope you clear up that mess of books you made later."

"Do you hate me that much?"

"Of course not, you're my dear friend."

She covered her face with the book as his rich laughter rang through the shop. She could feel her ears _burning_ in embarrassment and a small, silly smile decorating her face. They both knew that he knew how to push her buttons.

-x-

No matter how much she tried to hide it, he could sense something was off.

And so it begins.

It was that time of the summer, around Early August, when the gloomy cloud that seemed to hang over Mary's head no matter how much he would try to help shake it off. Garry sighed and stretched on his chair behind the front desk, trying to work out the kinks in his back. It was only the late morning and yet he was already yawning in exhaustion.

"I-Is everything okay, sir?"

He sat up properly and nodded at the only other worker in the second-hand bookshop, Carla, who was clutching a pile of books herself. "I'm fine, Carla." He managed to stifle a yawn but she still looked unconvinced. He gave her a charming smile instead and opted to adjust his rolled up shirt sleeves. "Have you finished with the inventory I asked you to do?"

"Yes, sir."

"And the price checks?"

"Mm-hm."

"Excellent." Garry turned to look at the vase that decorated the counter with six red roses and delicately stroked one of the petals. "Have you seen Mary by the way?"

"I think I spotted her around the children's corner."

"Typical. Most of the customers are gone at this time but could you keep an eye on the front desk for me, Carla?" The young woman nodded and brushed back short brown hair. "Good, good. Thanks, dear."

She headed off to continue with her work, a little more pink than before. Garry made his way across the labyrinth of the shop, heading towards the back where the children story books were.

He spotted his target curled up on one of the beanie bags, completely immersed in the book and smiled gently at the sight. The light from the windows behind the girl danced along the incredibly long golden hair she likes to keep loose, almost reminding him of the fuzzy yellow coats of little ducklings.

Garry grinned, figuring out a new challenge for her.

"Aren't you a little old for those kinds of books now?"

"Why not?" she easily replied, not even sparing him a glance. "Even when all hope seems lost, even when it appears like all their sacrifices were in vain, a miracle happens. A puppet turns into a real boy, and instead of dissolving into foam and ceasing to exist, a mermaid turns into an ethereal daughter of air. Even if it's bittersweet, they all live happily ever after, something much more fun than the bleak harshness of reality."

"I thought you finished your emo period a few years back."

"I didn't—!" she quickly snapped her book shut, face flushed, quickly scanning left and right for any passing eavesdroppers. " _Garry,_ you promised never to—" He couldn't stop laughing at her panicked reaction, sitting down next to her for a quick break, careful not to disturb the tresses that spilled onto the floor. She scowled. "First you call me kid and now you call me old. What the hell do you want from me, seaweed head?"

"Language, my darling. I _would_ like you to help around, but failing that, you could probably help me by picking up after yourself. And maybe not let your hair down." He gave a pointed glance at the number of volumes scattered on the floor, courtesy of her carelessness. "Besides, aren't you bored of these same old stories?"

"Not really, they're classics for a reason."

"Still, why don't you make one of your own?"

"…My own…?" Her eyes widened in wonder.

"Make your own stories. Get a notebook, scribble down ideas and use that big head of yours to write down the next bestseller."

She blushed hard. "My head is not big!"

"I didn't say it wasn't full of wonder and imagination." She blushed even harder. "You can be the princess, the wicked witch of the East or even the paladin if you want. Or create a witchy, paladin princess… whatever makes it interesting, I suppose. Find inspiration in your own adventures, or in the least expected places and grow from there. Who knows, maybe one day you'll even beat _me_."

Her expression darkened and she sat up on her knees, refusing to break eye contact with him. "And when will you let me read your new book, Garry?"

He turned away and smirked. "Never, if I can help it."

"But you showed _Carla—"_

"Because she's not out to get me."

Viciously twisting her hair and yanking it into a giant bun, Mary harrumphed and shoved her book into his chest. She crossed her arms and stormed off, probably to try and pry his assistant away from the desk for brunch. "Still not fair!" she shouted back.

"Hang in there, kid!" He gave a long, suffering sigh and gathered the scattered books, grumbling about how he hated picking up after her.

-x-

Garry was quite proud of himself, if he wanted to be honest.

The girl took his challenge and kept mostly to herself at the back of the shop, keeping Carla company while she worked. He was free to deal with customers without having to worry about her messing around with the books or her continually plummeting mood. Besides, his younger assistant was more patient with the girl than he was.

And he was free to work on his next big title.

Garry was successful enough as an author, enough to feed himself and keep a bit of pocket money, but he still had to work hard if he wanted to continue with his career. The man looked around the mostly empty shop and grinned, taking out his red ring notebook to continue planning. The coast was clear and there was no sign of—

"Garbear!"

He screamed, jumping out of his seat. Following the ringing laughter, he swivelled in place to glare at the girl who had the audacity to sneak up behind him. She still couldn't stop giggling at his reaction, bursting into another round when she tried to control herself.

"What do _you_ want, Goldilocks? I haven't seen you since the other day."

She gave him one of her more delightful smiles and walked around, plopping her dainty self onto the front desk. "I've been thinking—"

" _Oh no."_ he sarcastically drawled.

She carried on as if she didn't hear him. "Maybe you're the wolf in _my_ fairy tale."

He gave her a blank look and closed his notebook, resigned to the fact it just wasn't going to be a productive evening now.

"I really hope not. Your mother wouldn't approve of you hanging around a fiend to all grandmothers and muddy backyard animals."

"But when you get mad you do the huffing and puffing thing perfectly, and you like to bother innocent little girls like myself."

Garry pinched the bridge of his nose, the action giving her a glimpse of his usually covered left eye. "I don't think—"

"—Exactly."

"Stop."

"Payback!"

He almost growled and exhaled sharply in frustration before stopping abruptly, realising her point. He took a slow, deep breath and watched her smug, pretty face break into another wide grin. "Happy?"

"Yeap!"

He turned away and pouted. "I'd really rather not be the villain. Why can't I be someone nice?"

"Like the fairy godmother?"

"That could… work." He smiled and nodded, tapping on his smooth chin with one finger, "I would grant the wishes of the hearts and make beautiful dreams come true."

"Not to mention you definitely like lady clothes."

"You can borrow my dresses, sir." Carla helpfully added, as she emerged from the backroom, setting another volley of snarky banter and ringing laughter.

-x-

Although she was busy with her new project, the dreams wouldn't stop visiting her at night, increasing in both frequency and intensity. Mary would watch, helpless, as Ib pushed her into the frame before she woke up in cold sweat, guilt and grief welling up inside her.

She hadn't realised that Garry had already gone ahead. She didn't know whether Ib knew what she was doing, sacrificing herself like that. She hadn't realised the implications when she met the little girl and the older man, what it meant for two to leave one person behind.

In other dreams, she and Ib lived happily together as sisters. They were happy with her parents, content by simply being together. She flinched as she remembered what she did to Garry in those dreams to make sure she got to leave. She couldn't believe she would something so awful and manipulative in the past, but she knew she could have. Desperation did terrible things to a person.

There were worst dreams still, and she would pale as she recalled what Ib and Garry did to _her_ , how they…

Shifting around under her covers, Mary shivered badly. She liked the cold but she didn't like being cold. She tucked herself into a little ball and sighed, hugging herself, trying to find some measure of comfort on her own. There was no way she was talking to her guardian about this, though she longed for some company to share her pain with…

His face flashed through her mind.

She shook her head, perishing the thought immediately.

Mary would go over the sequence of events over and over in the quiet of the night, imagining all the different combination of events. And yet it wouldn't change the fact she pushed the two of them into the toy box they escaped from before she could find them. That they left her room alone and headed straight for the exit. That Garry went first, she caught up and Ib was forced into a decision.

And she blamed herself every time for not pulling the girl with her into the mural.

-x-

Mary paused at the entrance, stunned by the sight that greeted her by the front desk. Garry glanced up from his position next to the roses to give her an apologetic look. The smug woman next to him drummed her fingers on the wood and hummed, visibly amused by Mary's stunned expression.

"Got you, dearest."

"Mother." She bowed politely, not forgetting her manners. "What are you doing here?"

"Well this _is_ my shop." She grinned at the little girl's flinch. "I needed to talk to Garry and you seem to be avoiding me at home. Honestly, why go through so much effort? Going out without breakfast, coming back only after dinner. I haven't had a chance to hear your answer, and Garry told me you've been coming here a lot lately."

She shot him a look and he shrugged, taking another sip of his coffee.

"So here I am, killing two birds with one stone."

Mary shifted uncomfortably. "I haven't decided."

"That's cutting it a bit close, isn't it? It's already August and school starts in September."

She grinded her teeth to avoid giving back a biting answer, her expression darkening.

Tucking back a stray black curl behind her ear, Wilma Graham turned to her trusted manager, motioning to the back room. She was a tall woman, towering over even Garry at her full height, not including her high heels. Even he was intimidated by her. The man nodded as she made her way and gave the younger girl a soft look that only his lone eye could muster.

_It'll be okay, Mary._

She really didn't want to make that decision any time soon, no matter how important it was. She hated being backed into a corner, and yet that was exactly what her mother was doing.

Mary hated being pushed.

-x-

The young woman was glad it was a slow day at the bookstore, and customers had yet to come in. She couldn't have imagined how to deal with the fuming daughter of the second-hand bookshop owner then, loud and emotional, pacing holes into the carpets as she vented.

"It's not like it'll make a difference if I leave or stay, Carla." She sucked her teeth and hooked her thumbs around the straps of her denim overall shorts, messenger bag still slung low on her hips instead of the backroom where she liked to keep it. " _Family matters_ that she won't tell me about… she probably just wants to go book hunting again, so why does she need to take _me_ along?"

The woman in question smiled and shrugged, proceeding with her task of re-arranging the window display, trying to bring out as much beauty as she could in the editions that Garry had hand-picked himself.

"She thinks she's giving me a choice but we both know that that's a lie. She's just saying it so she'll feel good about herself. It's not like she's going to deal with me whether I'm in a boarding school in Europe or living in our old house here, so I really don't see the point in moving. I can take care of myself, Garry can check up on me, and if I need some girl advice, I can always come to you, right Carla?"

Trying not to give definitive answers or encourage her further, she hummed in acknowledgement instead. Carla was only a few years older than Mary herself, and though she liked the girl well enough, she avoided trouble with a passion.

"Then again… none of you really care about me…" Her hands stilled at the suddenly soft voice. "All my mother sees are her books, all you see is Garry and all Garry sees is the mess I keep leaving behind. Just like the ugly little duckling, no one would mind if I just disappeared."

Carla turned, about to retort when another voice beat her to it.

"That's not true."

The girl rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "You sure, dearest Garbear? You say it time and time again that you hate cleaning up my mess. If I was gone, there would be no mess to clean."

He groaned, running a hand through his lavender locks. "Look, you're obviously not in the best of moods so let's just stop being dramatic and—"

" _I'm_ being dramatic?"

"I think you're being ridiculous, kid."

"Stop calling me, kid!"

"Stop yelling in my shop." The slap echoed through the room as the horrified occupants watched. Mother and daughter stood still and stared at each other, the latter slowly bringing a hand up to nurse her hurt cheek. Carla looked around wildly, thankful for once for the lack of customers anywhere in sight.

Garry rubbed the back of his neck and felt the need to look away, unable to interfere in their family matters.

"Get over yourself and stop involving people who aren't concerned. I gave you a choice and now you're throwing it back in my face? What nonsense are you spouting? Why do you think I want to bring you along to Europe? Stop being so difficult and—"

Mary took a step back and raced out the door.

-x-

It rained in the evening.

She still hadn't returned by then.

Garry sighed and looked out the shop windows, a woman with her red umbrella outside briefly catching his eye. He shook his head and returned to his notebook, but trying to focus was near to impossible when he was this worried about her. Being separated from Mary and not knowing where she was usually ended up with bad things.

He quickly shook his head again, closed his notebook and stood up to take a breather, walking around the desk to reverently attend to the still fresh red roses. They seem to be doing well and Garry sighed once more. It was almost insane that such a trivial matter brought him comfort, but he tried not to question his mental state too many times to preserve what was left of it.

Like when his employer took a liking to keeping roses on the front desk after Mary arrived into their lives. Or how she would give him vague glances when there was a batch of books concerning art or artists. It left him mildly concerned, but nothing ever came of it. Even if he had questions, Garry felt like the window to ask had closed long ago.

A thunder rumbled in the sky and it seemed to rain even harder.

The restless twinges of concern came back and intrinsically Garry knew he wasn't the only one.

Wilma Graham had finished up her business and quickly left, but the constant checking of her phone betrayed her otherwise cool façade. She was a proud woman who didn't care much for people, but her adopted daughter's good opinion meant the world to her, even if she did a poor job of showing it.

Carla's doe-eyed glances towards entrance every few minutes had started grating on Garry's nerves hours ago, but he couldn't blame her. What Mary said, and what he had unintentionally heard, had stung. He knew it was the hurt feelings and probably sleep deprivation talking, but did Carla? His head jerked up as the door chimed and he smiled politely at the old man who came to take shelter from the storm, inwardly disappointed. Carla went to greet him and Garry went back to his thoughts. He suppressed a groan as he realised he had been mimicking her and tore his eyes away from the door.

The downpour made things even more depressing. He just hoped the storm wouldn't whisk away the girl to somewhere he couldn't reach her.

He went back behind his desk and opened his notebook again. He simply stared at the page for a full minute, his mind swirling with thoughts of whether he was supposed to be Toto, the Good Witch of the North or the Wizard who gave faith through trickery. The man turned to the ornament beside him and moved the rose vase half an inch to the left, before moving it back half an inch to the right, tapping his pen against his notebook anxiously. His thoughts were a mess since she left.

-x-

She didn't come back to the shop at all.

Carla was still painfully shy as she bid him farewell for the night, but still asked him to update her about Mary when there was any news. Garry could only mutely nod, touched by her concern. Whatever Mary said was from hurt feelings, as there was no way that none of them didn't care for her.

He took a step back as he finished locking up and jumped when his cell phone rung. Fumbling through his bag, he frowned as he finally found it. Seeing the caller ID gave him no peace and he hesitantly took the call.

"Ma'am—"

_"_ _Have you seen, Mary?"_

His stomach dropped and he suddenly found it hard to breath. "What—"

 _"_ _She hasn't come home."_ Garry glanced at his own watch and blanched. It had been over fifteen hours since she took off. _"Garry, she hasn't come home, she hasn't answered my calls, what if…"_ the normally regal and strong voice cracked towards the end and he swallowed thickly. A migraine was already forming at the back of his head. _"What if—"_

He double-checked the locks and started running before he responded. "I'll find her."

_"_ _Garry—"_

"—I'll find your daughter."

 _"_ _It's been so difficult approaching her lately. I thought she'd be excited to travel and explore the world with me. Did I read her wrong? Did I misinterpret the subtext? How could I call myself her mother after today… Garry…"_ he spun around the corner, almost slipping on the wet gravel. _"Garry, what if—"_

"We—" he panted into the phone, rapidly losing his breath. He ran a list of places to search for in his mind, heading for the closest destination. "We can't think like that. I'll find your daughter. I'll bring her home."

-x-

The girl sat on the grassy embankment, watching the artificial lights of the city and streetlamps shine in the river below. She arrived back in town a few hours ago, but she didn't feel like going home then and certainly not now.

Travelling back and forth all the way to the art gallery had taken her hours, but she had plenty of time after she stormed out. She tried again, but no matter how long she walked around, no matter how much she stared and pleaded the paintings of her old family, they refused to let her into their world time and time again.

How many years had it been now? How many times had she tried this?

Mary had never felt so alone.

Again, she tried to spot any differences within their frames, find anything that even hinted the presence of a foreign little girl in their otherwise static world. Again, she found nothing. The fate of her first friend remaining a mystery.

She had never felt so inadequate.

Footsteps and heavy breathing signalled the approach of another person, but Mary paid no mind to them, having spotted the seaweed bouncing on top of their lavender hair from a distance away. She turned away from the person as they panted and plopped down next to her, a bit of distance between them, visibly out of breath.

"Did you run all the way here?"

"Most of the way, yeah." He tried gulping him as much air as he could, lying back on the wet grass to catch his breath, surprisingly uncaring about his clothes for once. "Why… Why didn't your phone? Your mother and I tried to call you all day."

"My battery died."

He frowned at the thought of being unable to contact her. Did she even realised how worried they were about her? "Then why didn't you go home? It's too late for polite young girls to be out at night."

Her bottom lip quivered and she was glad for the semi-darkness. "There you go berating me like a child again."

"You don't react very well to me being nice to you, so I have to be a little harsher than I would normally like to be. Besides, if you analyse my behaviour like you analyse your book characters, I only call you kid when you're acting like one."

"Sorry." Her voice was uncharacteristically quiet.

He turned to her, oddly silent for a moment. "You're _sorry_? Where are the witty comebacks, the never ending sarcasm?"

"I thought I was a polite young girl."

Garry laughed out loud, glad that at least some of her spirit was coming back. "You can be whatever you want to be, Mary. Just please be yourself."

She hugged her knees to her chest and rested her chin on her knees, staring straight ahead, refusing to meet his eye. He wondered how long she had been out here considering how badly she shivered. "Being myself isn't good enough."

He didn't know how to react.

"What?"

"I don't have a lot of friends. People at school here barely like me, they won't like me in Europe. I'm a bother to everyone who knows me. I'm nothing but a mess, leaving nothing good behind me."

They were both silent for the longest time. Garry stretched out his legs and yawned, shifting in the grass for a more comfortable position in all the dampness.

It was a marvellous night. The night crickets chirped and the almost sluggish gurgle of the river water were making her sleepy, a feeling of calmness washing over her. She remembered the days back in middle school when she and Garry laid on the grass after school and watched the sunset, when babysitting was somehow part of his duties as manager of her mother's shop.

"Mary, look at me."

He made no attempts to move from his position, so she had to turn her head, cerulean eyes peeking out from underneath her fringe. Garry may appear laidback to a stranger, but his face as illuminated by the streetlamps was serious.

"You are a fantastic human being. You're curious, ridiculously stubborn and incredibly clever."

He finally got up, placing one hand on her shoulder, the other supporting him on the ground. Her face flushed and the bun she wrapped her long hair in bounced as she looked to the ground. He took in a deep breath for courage.

"You love poetry even if you get embarrassed by it, so I'm going to be super sappy and poetic right now. You're a work of art—" he squeezed her shoulder at the sudden panic in her eyes, "but you're nowhere near completion. You, me, your mom, Carla, everyone… we are all a work in progress. We'll need time and effort to grow into the beautiful masterpieces we're meant to be, but until then, don't dismiss your growth as worthless."

He paused at her sniffling, placing his arm around her shoulders as she slowly fell sideward onto him. Hugging her to his chest, he smiled and patted her head.

"I promise you're enough, so don't feel that way about yourself again. Every bit of you matters… okay? Please just live well." The air was filled with a keen wailing sound and Garry softly chuckled, used to her antics. "C'mon, people passing by are going to get the wrong idea. Cheer up."

He held her, soothingly stroking her hair, patting her shoulder affectionately. She cried into his already wet shirt, letting out all her frustrations onto his chest, hands gripping the material tight. They both knew that he knew how to push her buttons, and she was never more thankful. Until she was finally calm enough for him to walk her home, she held him tight, feeling her loneliness disappear bit by bit and replaced with the warm feeling in her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be clear, I didn't like the fan-made Ib: Sacrifice ending on YouTube because there are many inconsistencies that don't make sense to me. But that's a discussion for another day. You'll see what kind of ending I went with later. And so it begins. I've wanted to try writing a Mary/Garry story in the past and now I have an excuse huehuehue. Btw, did you get all the storybook and fairy tale references? Some were super subtle, some were super obvious, lol. There were 10 in total, tell me how many you spotted ;)


	2. Act II

It was the same dream, but it didn't start at the same point.

She was running, her legs suddenly tiny and her heart beating out of her chest. The sounds, sights and the bitter, _bitter_ cold of the black corridor was somehow magnified, almost overpowering. She stopped as she saw the little girl and the mural, glowing bright in the darkness.

"Ib?"

The girl in question turned to look at her, expression surprised and… almost guilty. "Mary?"

"Ib…"

She paused to consider the girl's position. Her hand was outstretched to the giant painting, seemingly reaching for something. She had taken a single step forward before she slowly shifted back, those bright red eyes of hers almost considering something. Her eyes darted back and forth between the mural and the other child, before she finally gave a small, hesitant smile.

"Is this… is this the exit?" Mary gasped when the other girl nodded and dashed forward, gripping friend's hands tight. "Ib! We're finally getting out!"

-x-

In the past seven years that she knew him, with the past eight summers that she spent with him, it had crossed her mind to ask, to see if she didn't have to be lonely during the darkest day of the year. But she had always hesitated from taking that leap of faith.

To be honest, she was terrified.

She wasn't sure what would happen if he knew the truth. If he recovered his memories, what would happen to whatever semblance of a friendship they shared?

She enjoyed his snarky banter, she liked it when he fussed over whether or not she's eaten yet. She likes how he tries to _discreetly_ nudge his book recommendations despite being clear as day. She loves how he doesn't complain about her reading unlike other bookstores, as long as she keeps the books in mint condition and took care of her reading posture, never mind the mess. She even found the nagging endearing.

He was kind to her. He trusted her.

She didn't want to lose that.

She didn't want to lose her precious memories of Ib either, as the years passed by. Maybe she was selfish, but she didn't want to be alone with the burden of the knowledge that she knew, of her beginnings, of how she met a wonderful girl named Ib and became friends with the weirdo adult she was so against, initially.

Mary was definitely selfish, asking him to accept her like that, all of her.

But what if he didn't agree? After what happened the previous night, she was more terrified than ever, of losing him and of being alone.

The bell chimed as she stepped into the bookstore warily. There he sat as usual, scribbling away in his tattered red book. He looked up at her and gently smiled, fixing his hair slightly to be more presentable. The butterflies inside her tummy were probably morphing into jet planes, she could barely keep her breakfast down.

"Hey."

She cleared her throat, trying to clear away her nervousness. "Hi."

"How are you?"

 _'_ _Did you sleep well? Did you have breakfast with your mom? Are you feeling better now?_ '

Mary let out a soft giggle at the unasked questions, knowing how motherly Garry could be with her after a particularly rough night or bad day. He was a terrible worrywart. "I had breakfast with Mother after we fell asleep reading together last night. I'm alright now, mostly."

He gave a sigh of relief and continued scribbling. Taking a bite of his muffin, he was obviously satisfied with her answer. Just like he knew which buttons to push, she was an expert at placating his worries, she just didn't feel the need to do it as often.

"I'm very glad to hear that. Be a dear and flip the sign in front to _Open_ , please." He stifled a yawn, taking another sip of his coffee. "It's almost time now."

Quickly doing as she was told, Mary looked around and noted Carla's absence, vaguely remembering the young woman mentioning today was her day off. She had to apologise to her the following day then. The girl took a deep breath, deciding that this was the best time as ever. It was probably going to be another slow morning, and it was just the two of them.

"Garry, I…"

"Hmm?" he glanced up, but didn't pay mind to her odd behaviour, too distracted with the near completion of his next book draft.

"I—I'm… I'm not…" she stuttered, feeling heat blazing through her face. The man placed his muffin on its plate and hummed, still not paying attention to her. Her chin quivered. "I'm not a good person, Garry."

"Didn't we go through this last night?" he answered easily.

"Garry." It barely came out as a whisper and she watched him watch her, his teasing smile falling as slowly as her tears. She forced her too dry throat to work, to express her darkest secret. "I'm not a good person."

She held her breath, unable to bear the silence. Time seemed to stand still for an eternity. He calmly stood and made his way around the desk. Garry exhaled slowly and leaned against the oak, turning to reverently stroke the petals of one of the six red roses.

"You've got to stop being so harsh on yourself, Mary. Ib wouldn't have liked it. "

-x-

The young man and the little girl gazed at the giant mural glowing bright, its colours vivid and almost blinding in intensity.

"Let me go in first."

Garry took in a deep breath and a hesitant step before dashing forward, jumping into the abruptly frameless artwork. He closed his eyes in fear. There was the slightest resistance against him. When his feet touched solid ground, Garry gasped and smiled.

His eyes widened as he examined the stark whiteness of the… area surrounding him. Everything was so white and bright he could see neither walls nor ceilings, but it stretched on as far as his eye could see. Despite the strange realm on his side of the painting, he turned back and gave Ib a big grin. She appeared to be in what seemed to be a giant rectangular window, the darkness surrounding her a sharp contrast across the borders of the two worlds. She gave a shy grin back.

Reaching forward only to touch solid glass, he became mildly panicked at the separation, his hands quickly clenched into fists.

"Ib? Can you hear me?"

She nodded. He instantly laughed in relief, nervousness about communication slowly vanishing.

"C'mon, Ib! Let's go!"

Ib unclasped her hands from her chest, took a step forward and stretched out her hand, reaching for his when she stopped just mere millimetres from the barrier. "Ib?"

His hand couldn't reach hers, the panicked feeling returning. "Ib, what's wrong?"

Her gaze was transfixed to her left and he followed her gaze to see a bewildered Mary, panting from exertion, but visibly excited to see her friend. He muttered a curse under his breath.

"Ib? Ib!"

The girl in front of him looked back and forth between the painting child and him, and he could see her hesitance, her delicate soul torn with the decision she had to make. _Leave or get left behind._

"No. Ib, _no._ " He slammed against the glass, desperate to meet her eye, "You belong in this world! You worked so hard to come here, you can get out _right now_ and go home to your mother and father!"

Ib's brows furrowed before she turned to Mary, giving her a hesitant smile.

"Ib, please! Take my hand, it isn't scary at all!"

"Is this… is this the exit?" Garry let out a shuddering breath as Mary gasped, grabbing her friend's hands. "Ib! We're finally getting out!"

Young Mary turned to the large glowing mural, completely enchanted, paying no heed to Ib's quiet contemplation. Garry gaped at her cerulean eyes from his side of the glass, at the joy and the desperation to leave the gallery.

"Mary, you…" he started before he gained no response. Garry placed a hand right in front her face and she didn't even seem fazed. He sucked in a sharp breath as he realised that she couldn't see him. Just like how Ib and Garry saw different things in the mural, so did Mary. To him, the mural was a window that led him home. To her, the mural was a painting and magical portal to a new world.

"Mary, please listen to me, don't do this!"

She didn't seem to be able to hear him either, his desperate pleas gaining none of her attention.

Slowly, as if time started to still, he watched in horror as Ib placed both her hands on her friend's shoulders. Her head rested between the girl's shoulder blades. He knew Ib could still hear him, perhaps because she was human, but her decision had come to a conclusion.

"You'll have a great time, Mary."

They both froze.

"Ib?"

He screamed and repeatedly slammed his fists against the glass, begged for her attention, for her to _stop,_ but nothing worked.

"You'll meet so many great people and you won't be lonely anymore."

_"_ _No!"_

"Ib?"

_"_ _Don't!"_

The other child stared at the top of her head, not entirely understanding. The adult in front of them let out a piercing wail, dropping to his knees, knuckles and the sides of his fists turning blue from the bruises already forming.

"Please live well." Bright red eyes looked up, a serene smile gracing her lips. "Goodbye, Mary."

Her tiny body slammed into his and Garry fell backwards grasping her, barely catching the child's last words behind the other side of the glass. He blinked away tears. She was so scared, he could see it so clearly, but she still smiled radiantly.

The window of the Fabricated World vanished, white light surrounded them and Garry had to close his eyes from the blinding intensity.

He treasured those words, because no matter how painful they were, a faint sense of hope glimmered behind them.

"See you later, Garry."

-x-

Just before beginning college, his only source of income was cut off. He regretted fighting with them, but his parents didn't own or control his future.

Garry needed money to pay for tuition and after a recommendation from one of his few friends, started working at a second-hand bookshop part-time between classes. He was drawn to the messy yet homely aesthetics of the interior, so different from most _normal_ bookstores, so much cosier and magical with its high windows and higher shelves of books, some even reaching up to the ceiling.

He was happy, the pay was good and he eventually got used to the eccentricities of his boss.

She was tall and plump, a beautiful foreigner who had been living in Japan longer than he had even been alive. Wilma Graham was like a book dragon, wealthy with old money, isolating herself as she hoarded books, which eventually led her to her opening up the store.

The woman typically hated people, liking Garry simply because he was 'as strange as she was' (in her own exact words) in addition to how he did everything efficiently, as she liked and commanded. So after working for several months, he came out of the backroom to the most curious sight.

It was late August. The bell chimed that Saturday morning inside the quaint second-hand bookshop. Sunbeams danced across the two companions as they entered, the faint scent of coffee and paper greeting them warmly in addition to the store clerk, although he was a tad more shocked.

"W-Welcome, ma'am."

"I want you to meet someone." She gave him one of her feral grin and brought the little girl besides her in between them, their hands still intertwined. "Taadaa! This is my new daughter, be kind to her."

He was at a loss for words.

"Isn't she lovely?"

He gaped at her downcast cerulean eyes, her curly golden hair almost glittering in the sun. She was so beautiful it was almost difficult to look at her.

"I thought you hated children," he muttered, before quickly slapping a hand over his mouth at the dark look the woman gave him. "I-I mean…"

Garry glanced at usually cold woman again and his heart softened at the fine lines adorning the side of her eyes and the gentle smile she directed towards her new daughter. "At only nine years old, she was a lost soul and I just wanted to give her a new home, is there anything wrong with that? Plus, she looked like one of those trapped princesses in a fairy tale… I just wanted to unravel her like my favourite mystery novels and—"

"Please stop, you're probably scarring her for life right now—"

"—Make sure she's never lonely. She looked so lonely." Wilma Graham placed her both her hands on the girl's shoulders and gave an encouraging squeeze. His eyes widened at the loving tone. The lady boss was an enigma in her own league, and he was still a decade too early to comprehend her or her actions. She turned those sharp eyes back to him. "So be nice."

The woman finally unlatched herself from the child and made her way to the oak front desk, taking out a single red rose bud he hadn't noticed earlier from her many bags. Garry watched as she placed it into the decorative crystal vase, humming away as she walked off to fill it with water, carelessly leaving the other two occupants with a tension palpable enough to slice with a knife.

He really didn't understand her.

He took in a deep breath and cautiously crept forward, getting down on one knee so he could make eye contact with the child. He hadn't nearly healed yet, a myriad of emotions swirled inside of him. It had only been a few weeks. Yet he pushed forward, determined to give her a chance, desperate to dispel his initial theory. "What's your name, dear?"

She scuffed her shoes against the wooden floor and adjusted her heavy looking backpack. Turning her large blue eyes from the floor to his face, he swore he was a brief flicker in mildly curious gaze.

"Mary." She pronounced her name quietly, but clearly. "My name is Mary."

-x-

She was thankful for the amount of customers that seem to flood into the store after their _discussion_ that morning. The store bell chimed and she quickly wiped away the tear tracks, swirling on the spot to cheerfully greet the newcomers. She was glad her prediction didn't come true.

Like a ball of sunshine, she helped them find books, giving helpful recommendations and generally trying to make herself more useful than usual. Maybe she wanted to ease Garry's workload with the customers with his assistant gone for the day, but maybe she wanted to avoid any chance of talking to him too.

That didn't prevent him from giving the occasional orders or nudges towards anyone she missed, but she would still only reply with nods or hums of acknowledgement. Her mind was all muddled, anxiety threatening to spill over, but she put on a brave front in front of her customers. This was potentially her business in the future too.

"Take care, do come again soon!" she shouted as she waved the group of teenagers away. They nudged each other and snickered at one of the blushing boys.

She stood on the doorstep, jumping a little when she heard the door close and lock behind her. Confusion clouded her features as she glanced down at her watch, an old birthday present from him.

"Mary."

She wondered how the hours flew by so quickly. The girl mentally prepared herself for what was to come.

"Hm?"

"Thanks for your hard work this morning." She looked up to see him smiling at her a few steps away in front of her. He ran a hand through his lavender locks. "C'mon, I'll treat you to ramen."

-x-

The girl stuck her tongue out and sighed in exasperation at her behaviour for the thousandth time. After a few well thought out prompts and jests, the older man had eventually eased Mary out of her self-imposed shell. Lunch was lovely, full of easy and safe conversation topics, mostly book discussions, familiar jokes and playful challenges like who could finish their ramen the fastest.

"It still hurts~!"

Mary had always been more sensitive to the hot and cold than he was, and needless to say, burned her tongue. Garry chuckled, ruffling her hair affectionately. "And who's to blame for that?"

Then again, he was a slow eater, so she would have won regardless. Spotting a welcomed sight nearby, he tapped her shoulder and gestured to a shop a little ahead to their right.

Her eyes lit up at the ice cream parlour.

"Shall we?"

She was almost drooling in anticipation and he grinned, hitting the jackpot.

They soon set off back towards the bookshop, knowing that their lunch break was almost over. Mary wondered at how the city bustled with so much life, how the endless conversations seem to blend into each other. It seemed to offer some semblance of privacy in the otherwise very public setting. She stared at the vanilla and strawberry confection, contemplating her next question.

"Do you hate me, for taking her place?"

There it was, the giant elephant that had stood between them for the past seven years. Garry bit into his ice-cream, purposely delaying his answer. Mary watched how he mulled over her question before the previously comforting buzz of passing strangers started to wear away at her.

"Well Mary, do you hate the fact that you're having ice-cream with me, instead of her?"

"That's not!" Her face flushed, eyes darting all over the crowd for an answer, "It's just… that is…"

"Relax, Goldilocks." He ruffled her hair again as she pouted, "Your question's difficult, I wasn't sure how else to answer it. Our relationship was so difficult in the beginning, but eventually I grew really fond of you. Besides… it was never your fault."

Her breath caught in her throat at his meaningful look. That was an entirely different discussion for another day. Mary cleared her throat. "So how long have you known?"

"How long have I been taking care of those roses now?"

She almost tripped mid-step, scrapping her delicate silver shoes on gravel before she could reply. "…Since the very beginning."

-x-

From the very start, he hated those dreams. Many others shifted around the same subject throughout the year, but watching her final decision plagued his summers, especially the few days before her anniversary. Garry would watch, helpless, as Ib pushed the other girl into the frame and into his arms before he woke up in cold sweat, guilt and grief washing over him. He would get very little sleep after waking, revelling in the darkness and his own misery before he would prematurely start his day to try and distract himself.

He hid the sleep deprivation with snarky jokes and six mugs of coffee.

He remembered how her rose only had two petals left and the two of them hadn't seen a single vase in the last leg of their journey. He remembered how she seemed sluggish from exhaustion, with only him to push her along.

Tried as he may, no matter how many times he visited the art gallery with its accursed occupants in the past, they wouldn't permit him to enter their world. He had lost count over the years. As he walked around the haunting halls, scrutinising each piece, nothing seemed amiss. It was like there wasn't a little girl trapped within, on the other side of the glass.

Garry often wondered if it was a mistake going ahead. He wanted to make sure it was safe for Ib, but didn't realise what would happen once Mary caught up with them. He didn't know what Ib was thinking, if she even knew what she was doing, sacrificing herself like that.

And he blamed himself every time for not being able to stop the little girl.

-x-

He wished Mary helped out more often like she did yesterday and the rare occasions in the past, but today just wasn't possible. He was at least grateful for Carla, who he shot a smile at as she struggled with another pile of books. He sighed at the untouched accounts before shifting his gaze at the new set of roses that the lady boss herself brought in the morning.

Seven fresh red roses stood in full bloom.

Mid-August had come faster than he expected.

Today's the day.

Her anniversary.

Mary hadn't come in, just like the previous years, probably still tucked in bed. He couldn't blame her, but wondered why she took the next step if she didn't want to seek out companionship during the darkest day of the year for the both of them. He sighed again and laid his head on the desk.

A soft cough made him raise his head slowly, blinking at Carla's flustered expression.

"It's almost lunch time."

He glanced at the clock on the wall. "Ah, it's still a bit early for lunch."

"It is, but…" she hesitated, obviously still struggling to find her courage, "You really seem like you need a walk, sir. I can manage the accounts and look out for customers too, there are only a handful around this time."

As sweet as the offer sounded, he felt both guilty and irresponsible if he just took off. "I really shouldn't…"

"Please leave it to me."

Garry smiled at his assistant, proud of how hardworking she is. The accounts needed to be done as soon as possible and he was obviously not up to the task at that moment. Perhaps just once wouldn't hurt… "Alright, sorry to dump all of this on you."

"It's okay, you seem especially exhausted today."

He awkwardly grimaced and shrugged. Rest would be coming soon enough. "Thank you for your hard work, take care."

"Y-You too, sir!" she called out as he made his way outside.

The summer breeze that instantly greeted him as he stepped out made Garry feel infinitely better. There was something about nature that instantly calmed him and he craved it whenever he could. Lunch hour in the bustling city was something that always lifted his spirits and he smiled to himself, wondering what Ib would think of it.

She often crossed his mind. Occasionally indulging in platonic thoughts of the girl when it wasn't too painful, he always wondered how she would have grown up. Would she remain a shy, quiet creature with beaming smiles and a classy air about her? Or would she have been a bookish, loudly opinionated and annoying brat like Mary? He snickered at the thought.

Before realising it, he had already reached the heart of the city. It seemed busier than usual, people milling around with both lethargy and purpose to their steps. As he crossed the road, Garry looked up to the crowd in front of him… and he let out a shuddering breath.

He couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

Beautiful, refined and so _her_. He only regretted how her face remained hidden as another summer breeze swept by. The vision of downcast garnet eyes and long, windswept brown hair kept walking, almost brushing his shoulder, and carried on. He blinked and took in a shuddering breath, suddenly overcome by the scent of musk and roses.

Garry stumbled back and turned around, the sea of people swirling around him progressively thickening. Barely anyone paid attention to the panicked man standing still, hands shaking, gaze finding nothing despite the thundering in his chest indicating otherwise.

Someone bumped too roughly into him and the man almost fell from the impact. He straightened up to find the road clearing and the traffic lights blinking yellow. Hurrying along, Garry refused to stop searching with his eyes. He wasn't sure if his lack of sleep and frayed emotions were playing tricks on him, but he had definitely seen her.

_"_ _See you later, Garry."_

Judging by the woman's speed as she passed him, he decided she must have walked a distance away by now. The man sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his lavender hair. If he was starting to hallucinate from the stress, he had better check on Mary after work.

-x-

The doorbell of the quaint bookshop chimed once again just as Carla finished the accounts, leaving her free to deal with the newcomer. She tried to smile at the approaching stranger, but couldn't quite suppress her shiver at the intensity of the older woman's gaze.

"Welcome!" She stood, subtly taking in a deep and calming breath, "Can I help you, ma'am?"

She stopped in the middle of the room, hands twisting long locks into some semblance of neatness after the wind had thoroughly mused it. The woman had beautiful garnet eyes that languidly scanned the shop, widening by just a fraction as they settled on the bouquet of roses on the front desk.

"What lovely flowers."

"Oh, aren't they?" Carla noted her voice to be surprisingly soft, and immediately relaxed. "Both the owner and the manager seem to really love fresh roses, we've never _not_ have them there."

She seemed a little dazed as she looked at them, almost as if seeing something else entirely behind her eyes. "Seven?" the woman muttered to herself. The shop assistant blinked at her question before the customer turned her attention back to her. She cleared her throat and came closer. "I was wondering if you had any books on artists."

Carla gave her a bright smile, deciding to ignore her unusual behaviour. "You're in luck, we've got a wide selection. Is there anyone in particular you're looking for?"

Her gaze briefly flickered back to the roses before she answered. "Ah, yes. Weiss Guertena."

-x-

When Garry described Wilma Graham as a book dragon, he didn't exaggerate. Just like her shop, her home brimmed with books, bookshelves spread across the walls, books piled on top of each other wherever there's space to put them. The only safe spot in the living room was the coffee table and couch, presumably where the dragoness and her spawn liked to read together while having tea, with the window behind them for light during the day and the bright lamp next to them during the night.

"So," he cleared his throat and smiled at the woman sitting in the arm chair next to him. "Is Mary still not feeling well?"

"She came out of her den for a little bit in the afternoon, but slinked right back once she was fed."

Garry winced and sipped his tea. He wasn't the only person who liked to use the dragon metaphor. "A-Anyway, when will you be leaving for Europe, ma'am?"

"End of the month." She nibbled on another shortbread and looked around the room, visibly saddened. "I honestly love Japan to be completely honest, with its rich culture and heritage, and no nosy relatives to bother me. This family matter is unavoidable though, and I'd like to at least have Mary with me. Hopefully it won't take too long and we can come back next year, but that doesn't seem likely."

"We can always hope." He smiled and paused, contemplating his next few words. "Thank you for everything you've done for me, ma'am. For all the opportunities you've granted me and the chance to meet Mary. I'll miss you two."

She gave him a blank stare. "Ew."

He flinched and turned away, furiously blushing.

She snickered at his reaction. "Just kidding."

He resisted the urge to pout. Mother and daughter were far too similar. Even after seven years, he honestly didn't understand this woman. He stayed with her even after college, finding the constant a comfort during the turbulent time period. His career as a writer may not have progressed too quickly _yet,_ but Garry was grateful to her for letting him stay on his feet and extending her hospitality. She had let him grow and trusted him enough to place the shop under his wing during her absence.

"Chin up, you look pathetic."

The new voice startled the two. Garry jumped at the sight of the pale girl by the doorway, numerous blankets engulfing her, any quipping response dying at his throat. Her usually lively cerulean eyes were bleak. Even if she wasn't physically ill, she did a wonderful job of appearing like it. The wobbling teenager eventually plopped down next to and leaned on Garry, making small pained noises as he awkwardly patted her head.

"I'll go make some more tea."

Garry stiffened as the mother of the bundle of blankets smirked and almost laughed at his position, revelling in his discomfort. She took the shortbread cookies with her and left. The silence of the room turned from tense to comfortable within a few minutes, before Garry cleared his throat.

"How's your book coming along?" he started in a very soft tone, drowned by the sound of the electric kettle and the dragon lady's off-key humming. Mary furrowed her brows at him, dark circles around her eyes.

"You came to visit for _that_?"

"Not really, just checking up on you."

She shifted uncomfortably, loosening the blankets around her shoulders. "I haven't written anything in a few days."

"Didn't do any writing during your self-imposed isolation?"

"Just revelling in my misery."

"So nothing interesting happened at all today?"

She shook her head, the loose curls hiding most of her face. He sighed and leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes. He was still glad to see her just fine, even if she was miserable.

"I saw something in town."

Mary turned to him slowly and he shrugged, his own exhaustion becoming glaringly obvious to her. He parted his lips to speak before closing them. His eyes took on a shine and he gave a humourless chuckle. "I thought I saw Ib crossing the street, all grown up and super pretty. She was too fast though, I couldn't catch her."

She didn't speak, slowly bringing an arm around his side, leaning a bit more weight on him. He gave a shaky smile and patted her head, appreciating the pseudo-hug. "And guess what? According to Carla, a customer came in today and bought almost all of our books on Weiss Guertena."

Her grip on his waist tightened and he settled his hand on her shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze for assurance. "She left her business card so we can contact her if we get other titles in the future. And you know what the worst part is? Carla said she was beautiful and her eyes… her eyes were red."

Mary abruptly stood, turning to him. "D-Do you think…"

"No." He glowered at the ceiling, unable to find the strength to move. "It couldn't have been. Some things don't fit."

"I really hope you're not teaching my daughter something you shouldn't be."

Mary turned to give her mother an embarrassed glare. Garry ran a hand through his purple locks, laughing out loud to mask the previous tension in the room, sitting up straight again. "Of course not. I could use another cup of strawberry tea, please."

The dragon lady harrumphed and placed the tray onto the table. She suddenly noticed the absent and forgotten cookies, groaning and shuffling back to the kitchen to fetch them. Mary shrugged the blankets away from her completely and Garry held back another round of laughter at her duckling patterned pink pyjamas.

"Garry… do you ever just _hope_ that… somehow…"

Her seriousness sobered him quickly and he hummed in agreement. "She's fantastic and clever. If luck was on her side, if circumstances were right… you have no idea how many times I've imagined—"

He choked on his own words, unable to continue. She nodded in understanding.

"Will you call this book lady?"

He could only shrug. "Only when the time is right, I suppose. It'll look odd otherwise."

"And you'll… tell me, right? Everything that happens then?"

Garry leaned forward, trying to be cool and nonchalant. "You'll be the first and only. Come visit the shop tomorrow if you want, I'm worried about you being all cooped up here. We should spend whatever precious time we have left of the summer having adventures together, not moping about."

Mary smiled softly at his words and affectionately hugged Garry tight, surprising the man who was trying to pour himself another hot cup of tea, only to pour it all over his hand.

"Ow, Mary!"

"Ah! Sorry!"

Still, she was really glad he came.

-x-

Mary knew she couldn't put it off forever.

If she left, she would lose all familiarity, especially the grassy embankments where she was currently laying down, a remnant of her middle school days. She wouldn't be able to visit the bookshop and Carla whenever she wanted. She wouldn't get to tease and annoy Garry, he wouldn't be able to ruffle her hair and give her soft pats. She wouldn't get to hug him when she was scared and lean on him during their quieter moments of non-bickering.

Most of all, she wouldn't be able to visit her old family in the Guertena Art Museum. She wouldn't be able to examine every inch of their frame for her friend, not as often as she would like. But nothing had changed in the past seven years and Garry was right.

If she left, she could finally see the world she had always dreamt and read about. It was the reason why she crossed to the other side, wasn't it? For love, family and adventure. She had already found the first two, her heart beating faster at the thought, so when will she begin her grand adventure? She picked up languages easily and could record everything that happened for her book.

Garry wasn't going anywhere, and he had already assured her that he would keep in touch whether he did or didn't. She had her mother and soon the rest of the extended family. She wondered if they all had strange quirks like her guardian.

Mary's lips quirked into a smile at the thought. She stared at the halcyon skies and took out her phone as Ib's words keep ringing in her ears. _"Live well."_

"Hello, mother. I'm on my way home, do we have enough boxes for our stuff? Oh, oh okay, so it's just… alright. Anyways… could you help me pack, please?"

-x-

She seized him by the collar and pulled him down, growling and baring her teeth at him. Garry looked at her blankly before trying his best to suppress a good round of snorting and laughing at her enraged face.

Carla was at the backroom, most customers were gone due to the hour and the ones that lingered were upstairs. Eyeing the empty bookshop surrounding them, he was glad no one else around to see this scandalous sight.

"Is everything okay, kid?"

"Everything okay? Is everything _okay?_ You're the one who bailed on me as soon as I told you I wanted to leave, and now _you're_ asking _me_ if everything's fine?" She took in gulping breaths, trying but failing to calm herself. "Well everything's just peachy!"

"W-Well… I needed to settle some things."

Her grip on his collar loosened and he finally straightened up, slightly flushed from their close proximity. She scuffed her feet against the hardwood floor and grimaced, turning to the side, refusing to meet his eye again.

"You're the one who told me to enjoy whatever's left of my summer and yet… I'm already leaving and you just mysteriously vanished for a week."

"It was just a few days—"

She swirled around in righteous fury. "And you're not even apologising for it!"

He had the nerve to walk away for a moment before retrieving something from behind the front desk. In his hand was a small hardcover book. It was forest green, borders beautifully engraved in gold, gorgeous patterns adorning the corners. A single golden—was it a duckling?—silhouette decorated the middle of the cover. It was reminiscent of her favourite fairy tale books, aged and vintage.

"Does a present make up for it?"

Mary slowly reached for the offered book and traced her fingers over the letterings of the title. She turned her eyes to him and Garry grinned as ice cold cerulean melted at the gift.

"That _is_ an extremely rare book you have there, with only two in existence." Mary gingerly stroked its spine and caressed the edges of golden rimmed pages. "The one you're holding, and my manuscript."

Her head shot up at his words, eyes wide with shock. "That novel you were writing…"

"It's more like a novella to be honest, sorry if that's disappointing. Last year I was hoping to finish it by your birthday, but that just wasn't possible." The young girl gave a small smile at the watch that adorned her left wrist. "I was officially finished by the beginning of summer, but I kept tweaking it nonstop because I wanted it to be perfect for you. Once you made your decision though, I rushed to check over the manuscript and get it printed before you left."

She opened the book and her chin started quivering as she read the message before the story began.

_Dearest Mary_

_Spread your pure white wings and fly_

_May the roses in your soul bloom eternally_

_And take comfort in our memories_

Mary swallowed hard, refusing to give in to the urge to burst into tears. Garry smiled that warm, enchanting smile of his, but kept his distance from her. The myriad of emotions playing on her face was worth all his hard effort. She cleared her throat a few times before she could finally speak.

"What's with the fancy title?"

He shrugged. "What's the proper name for a baby swan?"

She stroked the letterings on the cover reverently. "A cygnet?"

"Yeah, so," He glanced down and she swore his cheeks were dusted with a soft pink. "You're still a baby. You have to honour her sacrifice, and grow up into a beautiful swan."

Perhaps it was the magical, golden light of dusk spilling from the front windows, perhaps she couldn't stand sharp throbbing in her chest when she looked at him, how enchanting the rest of him suddenly appeared to her, brown eyes shining and lips curved ever so delicately.

Gripping her new precious book to her chest, she dashed forward to pull him down by the collar. Garry's eyes widened as he felt her lips on his cheek. The warm contact lasted only a second, yet the warmth lingered far longer.

"You—I—What?"

The girl at least had the decency to look bashful at her own actions, even if she still giggled. Garry groaned and tried to cover his face with one hand, the other holding on to his shirt for dear life. He felt like he would spontaneously combust.

"I-I… told you I'm not into jailbait," he mumbled, his face set ablaze. "Wait until you're older, dammit."

Judging from the heat of her own face, Mary knew she wasn't faring any better. She gave his arm a solid punch to try and vent out her embarrassed feelings before quickly latching onto him for another crushing bear hug.

"Careful, you may accidentally kill the boys abroad with all those charms," Garry joked, trying to grasp an old footing despite her new brazen actions.

"I'll be good," she whispered into his arm, her voice lowering with an even gentler lilt. "I'll help my mother carry her mountain of books before it topples and crushes her, I'll paint my own Marvellous Night and capture the real halcyon skies in between my pages. I'll experience what my father loved and what she would want to do."

Garry finally twisted in her arms to give her a proper hug, chuckling. "Sounds fun."

She rested her chin on his chest. "Are you going to miss me?"

He gave a snort and ruffled her hair affectionately, "It'll be too quiet from now on."

"Good, you'll appreciate me more when I come back."

"Then come back soon."

"…Okay."

She ignored the rushing in her ears, finally stepping back to give him a heart-warming grin. She would miss him terribly, but she wouldn't further take for granted the life she had been blessed with. Adventure awaits her in new lands.

She couldn't wait to make Ib proud of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When it comes to green shipping, platonic or romantic, there's a lot of issues to tackle, especially given their canon interactions lol. It was super difficult trying to write a straight up romance which is why I took the approach that I did, to demonstrate their bond through different, difficult situations. (Although now it may come easier). I think what I enjoyed most in writing these two is the playful banter and the almost tsundere-like nature of their relationship ^o^
> 
> Please review and tell me your thoughts! Take care everyone! x


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